


The Truth and the Roulette

by SteeleStingray



Series: The Vaskian Flower Trilogy [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Aphrodisiacs, Blow Jobs, Community: Kink Roulette, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Nipple Play, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Truth Serum, sweet slow sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:29:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8658016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteeleStingray/pseuds/SteeleStingray
Summary: Part 2 to the Vaskian Flowers TrilogyWhen a retinue arrives in Akielos from Patras, Laurent learns Damen has been keeping a secret from him and Damen is worried that he is losing Laurent's trust. Luckily, an old ally and a second rare flower could help them overcome the halt in their relationship...TW: USE OF APHRODISIACS/DRUGS





	1. 1. The Roulette

**Author's Note:**

> Never thought I'd be doing this again, but I had so much fun writing the first story on AO3 that I actually went back to reread the books and now I'm writing a second story! To challenge myself, this story has a little more plot and I will try to make the sex scenes sweeter, as opposed to my first story which was more rough. I hope you all enjoy!

** The Truth and the Roulette **

Everyone in the camp was in some state of undress, so no one batted an eyelash when the Exalted, the King Damianos of Akielos strode completely bare into view. Secretly the Vaskian women appraised him as the Veretians or Akielons might appraise a fine crystal vase or a diadem of sapphires or, better yet, a prized, unblooded warhorse. He had great value to them.

His men were a service to their king and worthy studs: all of them strong, intelligent, and brave with rippling fine muscles and sunny smooth skin.

The Vaskian tribeswomen had spent a pleasant afternoon and evening with this Akielon border patrol; first they went about ambushing and looting the male tribe that had captured the Prince of Vere, and had followed this voracious exercise with a veritable orgy. Hopefully, the virile semen of the king’s guard would reap a crop of strong children in nine months time. Their king, Damianos, was a rare breed even amongst such fine warriors.

He was easily the tallest man in the camp with hair, eyes, and long eyelashes dark as a raven’s wing. He was built as gods were, twisted muscle clear with his every movement, and a handsome profile any man or woman would wish to be buried between their legs. They could clearly see his infamous cock, but only hearsay could tell them that he wielded it skillfully.

It was such a shame that he only took one person to his bed.

The person in question was unconscious and draped limply across the King’s arms. The Prince of Vere was a famed, icy beauty, especially when he was so utterly relaxed, but the women of Vaskia had no interest in such a small-boned, pale boy.

Damianos leaned down fondly over that pale golden head, pushing it to a more comfortable position in the crook of his arm; even more tenderly, Damianos adjusted the dark red and gold cloth that had been his own clothing and was now used to cover his lover’s modesty.

These loving gestures were actually quite sweet.

Damianos looked around---most likely for his captain---but when the man could not be located one of the Vaskian women who spoke Akielon moved towards him.

“Excellency, I am Asha. Are you in need of any assistance? I believe your captain is in the tents at the moment…”

Damen smiled down at her.

“Yes, actually. If you could show me where I could get a drink for the two of us.” The Prince’s head lolled charmingly as if to showcase how dehydrated he truly was. His lips looked almost swollen and his breath came out in soft rasps.

“Excellency…is he well?” She grinned knowingly, the concern feigned. There was only one source of this ‘sickness’.

“Ah yes…well…” the King had the decency to look embarrassed. “That was the other thing I was going to ask you.” He reached down to retrieve a half-filled bottle of oil that had been tucked in carefully next to his lover. “If you could tell me the ingredients in this.”

Asha could smell the familiar heady smell of flowers before she even uncorked the bottle. It was a smell the Vaskian women knew well.

“I can understand His Grace’s exhaustion.” She replied, handing him back the bottle. “This oil is infused with the petals of the flower we call Frözha. It grows high on the mountains alongside its’ two sisters, and we use it to make teas and oils for our willing guests. I see you have experienced the results firsthand?”

Damianos looked with unconcealed fondness down at the Prince.

“Indeed I have.”

Asha bowed her head softly. “It is a rare delicacy, but I am sure your Excellency will have no trouble with procuring more…”

The King’s dark eyes caught fire, as she had expected they would, and he stroked the base of his Prince’s golden head. “You say there are three flowers? Do the other two have… _pleasurable_ effects as well?”

“Of course, Excellency. While you slake your thirst I can explain their effects to you.”

In her mind, she apologized to the Prince of Vere. She had a feeling he would discover the effects of the flowers soon as well…

 

A few weeks later Damen reclined on his balcony overlooking the sea, relishing the feeling of salt spray misting his bare chest. The late afternoon sun had warmed his skin to the point where he could _feel_ himself pulsing with heat. Occasionally he drank deeply from a glass of chilled dark wine; in his own mind he cut a fine picture.

Not everyone agreed.

Laurent flipped the gauzy curtains to the side with a particularly cold swipe. Despite his determined stride, he made no noise on the marble floors and he glanced at Damen with disdain.

“Darling,” Damen grinned easily in response. “Aren’t you hot?”

Today he was draped in layers and layers of pale blue silk that hung down to his forearms and ankles. It was cinched on his shoulders with rows of thin strings tied into knots---a particular favorite of Damen’s because they revealed small glimpses of flesh and were _so_ sexy to untie---and the waist was accentuated with a thin silver sash.

Laurent, to the astonishment of the Akielon court, did not adhere to their breezy style of dress while he was on the grounds of the palace. In fact, he seemed to be the only person in four kingdoms who could make Akielon outfits complicated to remove. Damen himself was torn; though he enjoyed the sight of those tight, creamy limbs, he also didn’t want everyone else to enjoy the view as well. He was amazed Laurent never showed even a visible bead of sweat.

Laurent’s gaze was the epitome of apathy. “I don’t have time to sweat. In fact, with all the preparations you and I have, I’ve even begun to budget my breathing. These are yours but looking through them now, I think it would go much faster if I just read them all…”

Damen grinned and stood, a feeling like liquid sun pouring into his flexing muscles.

He took another drink of the rich wine before setting it back on the balcony and meandering over to his prickly lover. One dark arm snaked around Laurent’s slim waist while Damen used his other hand to massage at the base of that long, ivory neck. Laurent ignored him as he shuffled through the thick stack of papers in his hands.

“This week is going to be such a nightmare in fact,” Laurent remarked dryly, “that imagine my amazement when I see you reclining on your ass and drinking without a goddamn care in the world. I’m sure it helped you to relax knowing that your palace is in complete disarray,” Damen stopped massaging the shoulder to fondle his scalp, “your Steward is an incompetent fool, and I, as always, am forced to pick up the slack.”

“You’re so sexy when you rule,” Damen responded, nuzzling his mouth at the soft skin right below Laurent’s ear.

“Lovely. Nothing appeals more to this king than someone else doing his job. Truly you are a testament to the diligence of your country.”

Damen rocked his pelvis gently against Laurent’s curving behind. It was a not-so-subtle message that he was feeling a little hot in the hips and was most often employed in the wee hours of dawn for fuzzy, slow morning sex.

He was rewarded with a view of Laurent’s ears reddening at the tops. However, Laurent caught himself quickly and maneuvered deftly out of Damen’s arms.

His cheeks were high with color as he attempted to pass off his arousal as anger. “Will you _quit that_?! Torveld and his entourage will be here in the better part of two hours and I don’t have the time or inclination---as all you Akielons seem to---to leisurely rut in the bedroom!” He was almost breathless at the end of this outburst and Damen secretly thought this fire made him more attractive…though he would never dare to say such a thing aloud.

Instead, he raised his palms in a gesture of defeat, smiling indulgently. “Fine, fine. I’ll take half those papers,” He saw Laurent twitch with interest. “ _if_ you give me back those Frözha teas and oils.”

Laurent’s flat expression had all the warmth of an icy lake. “ _Hell no_.”

And without looking back, he slapped the entire stack of papers on Damen’s side table, off no doubt to deliver a tongue lashing to the steward in order to nurse his embarrassment.

Damen chuckled to himself and fetched his wine before settling in to work through the lists of needs and expenditures for Torveld and his party as well as some minor decrees that needed his approval and seal. But something kept tugging at the back of his mind.

He and Laurent had not made love since the ‘adventure’ in Vask.

Damen was not so concerned about his needs and he would sooner be celibate than push someone as emotionally delicate as Laurent, but he did mind that Laurent was so tense around him now. Granted, the memories were…stimulating. Damen felt his penis threaten to stiffen if he recollected too much, but he couldn’t help but remember Laurent strung up and slick, coming over and over and…

Damen gulped wine to try and douse the flames of his passion.

It was no surprise that when a Vaskian merchant arrived with a small crate of oils, teas, and even satchels of loose petals of Frözha flowers, Laurent had confiscated them. Damen let him.

He would never slip Laurent any of the drug, and in fact found the idea highly distasteful. It bothered him more that Laurent didn’t trust him with the stuff than the fact that they had not been intimate. Then again Laurent was free with his opinions that Damen was in perpetual heat; the last time he had spoken this thought, Damen had made things worse by teasingly suggesting his asshole was still sore from their last time together and was causing his sour mood. Laurent had not spoken to him the rest of the day.

A true idiot in love, Damen smiled at his beloved’s quirks.

He didn’t know how to tell Laurent about the second, and much smaller, crate that had arrived just the other day and missed his inspection.

Damen glanced over at the cedar wood chest at the foot of his bed, where the single precious flask was tucked in at the very bottom. The bottle of pressed Münin blossom, pearly blue-gray in color.

It was a problem for another time, he supposed. Maybe in one of those rare moments when Laurent was actually open and vulnerable with him.

Damen shook these errant thoughts from his mind and turned his attention back to business…and his wine.

It was another hour and a half before anyone disturbed him; this time it was in the friendlier but less appealing form of Nikandros. He showed a bit more hesitancy barging into his King’s quarters, but Damen waved him in with a gesture of camaraderie, his eyes never leaving the list he was currently going over.

“Damianos, His Excellency Torveld of Patras is slated to arrive within the next half hour. The Prince of Vere felt it best if you received a reminder so that you could dress yourself accordingly.”

Damen raised one eyebrow. It seemed too tame of a message from Laurent. “Are you holding back on me, Nikandros?”

Nikandros, a long-suffering friend if ever there was one, gave a sigh that seemed to rack his very soul. “Your prince doesn’t mince his words. If I recall, he said to put on something decent because you looked like a ravished maiden and that he had it on good authority that Torveld was looking for an addition to his bed and your current appearance would inspire unseemly thoughts. Unless that was the sort of thing you were into.”

Damen was laughing softly by the end of the speech.

“That was the basic gist. Oh, except he recommended that I stay to help you since---and I quote---if I had time to laze about, I could at least do something I could wrap my mind around and leave a serving maid to find something more intellectually stimulating to do.”

“I apologize on behalf of Laurent.” Damen replied. “I do not need your help dressing, thank you Nikandros. However, if you would take these to my study,” He passed over the pile of half-read papers, “and then meet me in the main courtyard to greet our guests?”

“Your Prince is never honest, is he?” Nikandros remarked candidly.

Damen stretched leisurely. “That’s what I like about him…most of the time anyway.” He followed Nikandros back into his quarters and began to sift through his many lengths of cloth.

He decided after a short deliberation to match Laurent in a tunic of sky blue cotton edged in gold stars. Not only would it irritate Laurent, but it would also send a clear message to any strangers in Torveld’s group: the Prince of Vere was his lover and his equal. A careful application of scented oil to his neck and wrists and a circlet of hammered golden leaves on his head and Damen was ready to greet his guests.

A small retinue was waiting for him in the main courtyard, Nikandros looking thoroughly exhausted, Pallas and Lazar as close as they could be without actually touching, a phalanx of pretty stable boys, and Laurent standing at the forefront to greet the party coming through the gates; Damen could spot him in a crowd of thousands. If Laurent was annoyed by Damen’s choice of matching color, it did not show on his smooth expression.

Torveld rode through the gates in a clatter of hooves, loud, flashy and vibrant, just like his personality. His horse had not even come to a complete halt before he dismounted with a jump, helping his companion off with one muscular arm.

His bearded face was beaming with joy as he approached the group, arms wide. “ _King_ Damianos! It has a nice ring to it, no?”

Damen grinned in spite of himself and walked forward for a quick, solid embrace. “It’s been a while, Torveld. It’s my honor to welcome you to Akielos. I trust you journey was uneventful?”

“An absolute bore, save for the company,” His jolly face took on an air of mischievousness as he glanced behind him, “And speaking of company…” he moved to greet Laurent, “the Prince of Vere! Still governing with a silver tongue and a golden smile?”

Laurent smiled softly, putting on his best political façade. “You flatter me.”

Damen’s attention was taken at this point by the aforementioned company. Smiling shyly, with his golden-brown head bowed in the memoriam of his former servitude, was the lithe and charming figure of Erasmus. He took Damen’s right hand in his own slender ones and kissed his fingers. He gazed up from under his lashes in a way that would have been flirtatious coming from another man.

“Exalted, thank you for welcoming us to your home.”

Damen tipped up his chin so he could meet those wide, guileless eyes. “Erasmus. You are always welcome here.”

He felt a stare on him, and turned to see Laurent glancing at him with an unreadable expression. Erasmus, sensitive to social cues, looked at the two of them and hastily dropped Damen’s hand. With a slight blush of embarrassment, Erasmus moved on to greet Laurent, kissing him lightly on both wrists, in a sign of utter deference; Erasmus never forgot who was to thank for his liberation. Damen covered a smile as he saw Laurent stiffen with the unfamiliar contact.

Next to each other, the two of them did make a pretty, golden pair. Both were blond, pale, and slender but Erasmus was sweet and innocent, with wide eyes and an easy smile, while Laurent’s features, though cold and impassive, were more refined and elegant. It would be an exciting sight to see them kiss on the mouth…

With a quick glance back at Damen, Erasmus leaned forward to whisper something to Laurent. His eyes sparkled like Torveld’s had earlier.

Whatever he had to say must have been scandalous, because the effect on Laurent was nothing short of startling. His ears and cheeks flushed a dark pink and he could not hide the look of horror that passed over his face. Before Damen could find out what had just occurred, Torveld threw one arm over Damen’s shoulder and used the other to pull Erasmus’ hip to his own. He didn’t dare touch Laurent.

“Come now your Excellency,” Torveld grinned. “I suppose you have quite the feast laid out for us after our long journey?”

“Of course,” Damen replied, clapping him on the back. “The Prince and I will show you to the dining area.”

As he walked past, Damen brushed his fingers slowly across Laurent’s hand…

The dining room of the Akielon royal palace was one of the largest and most ornate rooms in the palace. It had high, mosaic ceilings, open windows to let in the smell of the sea, and a lengthy private balcony Damen and Laurent had made use of on more than one drunken occasion. The dining table was low to the ground and surrounded by overstuffed pillows for the benefit of the diners and servants circled with pitchers of water and wine and, every once in a while, a new dish hot from the kitchens.

Torveld was in an in an indulgent mood after a few glasses of wine and food lovingly presented to him by Erasmus, though the dishes were recommended by Laurent. The four of them, Damen, Laurent, Torveld and Erasmus, lounged in relative privacy at the head of the table so that they could speak candidly. And candor was free as the wine flowed.

Torveld lovingly stroked the length of Erasmus’ pearly exposed thigh from where it showed beneath his short Akielon tunic. Erasmus, almost as ruddy as his lover, giggled uncontrollably; Laurent raised one arched eyebrow at Damen as Erasmus’ giggling and twitching ‘managed’ to slide his skirt higher. He truly had become a skillful flirt.

Damen smiled himself. He was comfortably tipsy.

Laurent of course showed no signs of drunkenness, just a mask of neutral interest in the topics of conversation that had come up that evening.

Over a plate of flawless oysters and peppers bathed in olive oil, Torveld leaned closer to Damen and Laurent, smiling conspiratorially. He spoke in a low voice, even though the clinking of utensils and other conversations would drown out his thoughts. Truly what he was about to say must be very scandalous indeed.

“Word reached us when traveled near Vask,” almost imperceptibly, Laurent froze in the middle of his drink. “We heard that the two of you had a most… _carnal_ adventure on one of your patrols. Some of the women lavished extremely detailed compliments on your men.” He leaned in even closer so that Damen could smell the sweet wine on his breath. “They _also_ told us that you partook in a rare delicacy…better than _chalis_ , a mixture that can make men go wild.”

Erasmus looked down demurely, trying not to appear too interested.

Damen glanced at Laurent who had placed his wine glass down on the table and put one hand to his mouth in feigned interest. However, Damen noticed that the fingers by his mouth trembled ever so slightly and the hand that gripped his wine glass was white-knuckled.

“Is it wonderful?” Torveld pressed, placing a hand on Erasmus’ thigh.

Laurent pointedly refused to speak so Damen was forced to come up with a lie whilst on the spot. He took a drink to buy himself some time but was aware everyone was waiting for his response.

“I don’t---.”

Torveld laughed and interrupted. “Don’t try to keep this find to yourself! I tried to find some--- Frözha was it?---for my own personal use. Imagine my surprise when I was told the very King of Akielos had bought up all the remaining stock. Cost you a pretty penny didn’t it? _And_ you got the nectar from the sister flowers as well? You tricky devil, you.”

Damen felt his stomach sinking to his toes.

He knew Laurent would be glaring at him: cold, untrusting and angry. He could not bear to face that look. Instead, he tried to lightheartedly salvage the conversation.

“In the heat of the moment, I did buy from the Vaskian merchants. However, it was confiscated upon its’ arrival on the palace grounds.” He inclined his head playfully toward Laurent. “I cannot refuse him, I suppose.”

Torveld and Erasmus smiled at his fondness for Laurent. Laurent’s close-lipped smile was hard and sharp.

“What is this about sister flowers?”

Laurent’s voice was light and pleasant. To his tipsy audience he probably sounded politely curious. But Damen knew better. He had to tread very, very carefully with this.

“I only have one other.” Damen admitted more to Laurent than anyone else. “One bottle as its’ even rarer than the Frözha flowers. It’s called Münin. I haven’t used it.” He desperately hoped Laurent understood.

Erasmus’ eyes were shiny with wine and interest, but he dropped them low. “What does it do, your Excellency?”

Damen bit his lip. More so than the fact he had ordered it in the first place, more so than the fact that he hadn’t told Laurent that it had arrived, he would hate the effects of Münin most of all.

“It, erm…it makes you…tell the truth. _Supposedly_.”

He explained to his captive audience then what Asha had explained to him weeks ago. Münin bloomed only in the winter, a small tough little flower, which several Vaskian tribes collected at great personal risk. They then boiled the blossoms and stems in hakesh creating that pearly blue-gray color. In Vask it was only used during betrothal ceremonies as the effects were only potent when there was great trust between the person drinking Münin and the person asking the questions. Using it for interrogation had been known, in Vaskian lore, to drive people insane.

“How fascinating.” Torveld replied after a brief moment of silence. He looked pointedly at Laurent. “Would you try it, Your Grace?”

Laurent tapped his finger on the table thoughtfully. He met Damen’s gaze and this time he didn’t appear angry. In fact, he was unreadable. “Do _you_ want me to try it? Pick my mind? Open me up? Do you want it?”

Damen was hurt. They were lovers but Laurent never trusted him, never relaxed, always doubted his intentions. He only wanted…Laurent to trust him and tell him how he truly felt. “Only if you want to. I’ve not opened the bottle. You can.”

Laurent narrowed his eyes slightly. “You don’t trust me?

“Do you trust me?” Damen retorted.

Wordlessly, Laurent stood from the table and approached the closest servant. One word from him and they abandoned their previous order and scuttled off in a hurry. Laurent seemed uncaring as he settled back into an appropriate distance from Damen. No one dared to ask him what he had ordered.

Before long however, the serving boy returned, carefully clutching the bottle of Münin and set it in front of Laurent. The Vaskian wax was still intact on the cork.

Torveld and Erasmus looked at it with thinly veiled excitement.

Damen stared at Laurent. “You would drink it?”

“Yes. Would you?” Laurent responded smoothly.

“Yes.”

The decision was made when a long, milky arm plucked the bottle off of the table. Erasmus looked at the color as though entranced. “If it pleases my lords, I can help you make your decision.” Laurent nodded in assent.

He plucked two small identical glasses off the table and filled them both with a single gulp of wine from his own wineglass. Twisting his slender torso so that no one behind him could see, he gently uncorked the bottle of Münin and tipped only a few drops into one of the glasses. Then, with a graceful motion, he spun the glasses around in rapid circles so that anyone who tried to peek could not keep track of which drink was drugged and which one was just wine.

With a soft bow to the two of them, Erasmus offered up the cups on his palms.

“A…a game, my lords. Played by some for…amusement.” His hesitancy must have come from the fact that he could feel the tension between Laurent and Damen. “You select your choice and drink at the same time. Only time will tell who drank.”

“An exciting game,” Torveld replied, brushing a stray curl behind Erasmus’ ear. He blushed attractively pink in response.

“You first.” Damen responded kindly, allowing Laurent to choose. _Trust me_.

After only a moments’ deliberation, Laurent made his selection, Erasmus smiling with soft joy as his veritable savior brushed against his hand in an effort to take the cup. Damen took the other glass and nearly melted the drunken Erasmus with his smile of thanks. It was not every day a former pet received the attention from two princes and a king.

With a gentle clink of their glasses, Laurent fixed Damen firmly in his deep blue eyes. God, you could _drown_ in them…

There was some sort of inscrutably complex expression that passed through Laurent’s eyes before he upended the glass in one fluid motion, his neck long and white and bobbing attractively. Damen followed suit in one deep swallow, tasting… nothing but wine. Laurent too looked slightly puzzled at the lack of other flavor to give away the Münin. Apparently it was flavorless.

Two identical sounds of empty cups hitting the table, broke Torveld out of his uncharacteristic silence. “Haha! Always exciting to be in Akielos! I wonder, how long until the effects take hold?”

Damen was wondering something similar and waited for a change to take over him, waited to feel open and truthful. He looked at Laurent who appeared no different either.

Long moments passed before Laurent decided to call the bluff.

“It appears that you’ve been swindled by the Vaskian merchants.” He said lightly, almost mockingly, as he picked up the bottle and regarded it with derision. “I only hope it wasn’t poison we just drank or things might get quite chaotic around here without my help.”

Damen chuckled a little at that, only feeling slightly let down. It had been expensive.

Laurent placed the bottle back on the table, shifting a goblet clumsily when he misjudged the distance; apparently the wine was getting to him now. He snapped his other fingers for the serving boy, his eyes still cool and assured. “Take this away and bring tea for our gu---.”

Erasmus gave a little shriek as Laurent seemed to collapse in on himself, only Damen’s quick reflexes keeping his gold head from taking a hard knock against the dining table.

The thought of poison was first in his mind; a moment of horrible foresight from Laurent perhaps? And it was not without panic that his slid Laurent’s body into his arms, cradling that beloved head, and rapidly cleared the blond fringe from his brow.

Laurent’s blue eyes were open, and open wide.

He was not poisoned, thank god. There were no telltale signs: no fever, no change in his color, no rolling eyes or foaming mouth. Instead he looked…confused. A little unsure, his eyebrows furrowing in a look of discomfiture that was as foreign on him as Akielon clothing. He gripped Damen’s forearm with a trembling hand.

Torveld seemed to relax, petting Erasmus calm. “The Prince of Vere got it then! Luck is on your side tonight.”

_Münin._


	2. 2. The Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is everyone ready to hear from the new and honest Laurent? This is where stuff gets a little (no...a lot) hot, so CAUTION: EXPLICIT/ DRUGGED SEX! Hope this is as fun to read as it was to write ;) Enjoy!

“Is His Grace alright?” The serving boy asked, clutching the bottle to him as if his life depended on it. “Shall I fetch anyone? The physician?”

Damen waved him off with one hand. “Follow Lau--the Princes’ orders. Whatever he wanted you to get, go fetch it. I’ll take him.” The boy nodded and seemed relieved to hurry off. Damen started to help Laurent to his feet.

Torveld grinned at them over his half-finished drink. “Don’t want us to question him?” Erasmus smiled softly and kept his head bowed, knowing he would be left alone at the table with his own lover.

Damen smiled at them both. “I do hope you’ll enjoy your rooms.”

The palace was cool and still at night, the oil lamps casting dancing shadows in the halls and courtyards. The air smelled deeply of oranges and sea salt, flowers and incense. It was dreamlike, a place where you were never sure if the entwined bodies in the shadows were statues or flesh or if the sounds were sighs or the faint crash of the sea.

Laurent was an angel in this setting.

His ivory body was pressed without a cleft against Damen’s nearly bare chest and his beautiful face took on an even more ethereal glow in the lamplight. Damen half carried him back to his quarters.

He didn’t even bother to light the lamps but kicked the door closed with his foot and then swept Laurent up against him, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. Laurent’s wine-scented breath was cool against Damen’s throat. Damen toyed with the fine hair around Laurent’s neck and ears.

“Are you ok?” Damen asked. He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so full of emotion, but he was just filled with relief that Laurent hadn’t been poisoned. “How do you feel?”

“I…I feel strange.” Laurent replied in a strangely vulnerable voice. “I don’t know if I like this…this feeling.”

Damen scooped him up under his small, round behind, hoisting him up a few inches off the ground in order to carry him to the bed. His face was caught in an errant shaft of moonlight and Damen was arrested for a moment at just how beautiful he was. He actually bore even more of a resemblance to Erasmus now that he had lost the sharp, cold, wary look that he normally sported. Instead Laurent’s dark blue eyes were wide and guileless, his expression torn between confusion and adoration, and his rosebud lips trembling at this new feeling.

Damen sat, pulling Laurent into his lap so that he could hold him close while exploring the effects of Münin.

“Do you love me, Laurent?” He asked softly, running his lips the length of Laurent’s jaw.

Normally, Laurent would scoff and ignore him or make insinuations as to how Damen was childish with his affections. In their time together, Damen had only heard him say those three special words four times. It had always bothered him, since he was so open with his affections.

The response surprised him. “Of c-course I love you. I wouldn’t make l-love to you if I didn’t! I…I love you.” He sounded nearly on the verge of tears. “You don’t think I love you?”

“You never say it. Why don’t you ever say it?” Damen backpedaled.

Laurent bit his lip. Even now he was fighting the urge to show his true feelings. “It’s…embarrassing to say it…and I’m a-afraid. Afraid…if people found out h-how much I love you…they’d hurt you.”

Damen was overcome with fondness for the man in his arms and leaned down to stop his flow of words with a gentle kiss. “Do you like kissing me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like when I make love to you?”

“Y-yes.”

Damen practically glowed at this pronouncement; usually Laurent was quite crude in review of their sexual habits and it all seemed very superficial. “Did you enjoy when I made love to you with the Frözha?”

“Y…yes…no…” Laurent could not seem to come to a conclusion.

“Why no?” Damen pressed, genuinely curious. He had ample reason to think that the experience had been enjoyable.

Laurent blushed charmingly, sending Damen’s heart into a rapid pace. It was almost as though he was questioning a virgin pet: beautiful and shy, but unable to present anything but the truth. “I…I don’t like to lose c-control of myself. I-I’m scared of it. It felt so, _so_ good I…I couldn’t think. I couldn’t…I just wanted to feel you.”

Damen kissed him again, this time more passionately, tongue caressing the outline of those normally venomous lips. He loved this pliant, honest Laurent.

He broke away and Laurent gave an audible wet gasp. “Did you want me to have you? Earlier on the balcony?”

“…Yes…”

“ _How did you want me to do it?_ ” Damen was breathless with the need to hear this.

Even though it was dark, it was clear that Laurent had turned a very dark shade of pink, but the Münin was stronger than his embarrassment. “I…I wanted…any way. O-over the balcony maybe? Or you just…pulling me to bed.” Damen shuddered with abject pleasure over the thought.

“Ah…that would have been lovely…but I would never have done that.” Damen admitted, his penis prickling with warmth.

Laurent looked truly upset when he looked up at Damen. “You don’t want me…y-you haven't held me…in weeks…”

Damen felt a pain in his chest and crushed that precious prince up to him, nuzzling his nose and lips in that gorgeous golden hair. “I thought…You were cold since Vask. Sleeping before me, brushing me off, taking the Frözha. I thought you needed time. I won’t… _force_ you.”

Laurent flinched; they had spoken of his abusive past, but it always hung as tangible as a blade above their bed. It was why Damen always handled Laurent like he was made of glass, why he never, ever tried to push him. He did not want any action he took to remind Laurent of those horrible times.

“I-I’m sorry…I…can’t help it.” Laurent buried his face against Damen’s chest, at first he thought from the almost virginal embarrassment Laurent seemed to have. But then he felt it. “I can’t help that I…have the tongue of an asp. It’s…it was my only defense…Now I d-don’t know how to…not be sharp.”

Damen tilted his chin up.

Laurent’s face was open and honest; whether it was from the fact that he was fighting the Münin or because he was genuinely upset, tears were running freely down his fine cheeks. He was so very dear. Damen leaned down to kiss the tears, the salty beads crushing against his lips and running down his chin. Laurent’s breath hitched as Damen softly licked the tears away in one sensuous lap.

“I like you sharp. I fell in love with crafty,” he licked a tear, “prickly,” another tear preciously consumed, “bitchy Laurent.”

Laurent gave a watery sort of chuckle and Damen felt him begin to relax.

Damen lifted Laurent’s left wrist and kissed it as well, relishing in the silky soft skin and warm pulse he found there. “Do you trust me Laurent?”

Laurent lowered his head and bumped the yellow crown against Damen’s chin in a rare moment of flirtation. “…Yes…”

It was all he needed.

Warmth flooded his chest with even more intensity than he had from sitting in the sun all day. Unlike Frözha, where the heat was a pulsing, raging inferno that engulfed both the mind and the loins, this was the glowing warmth of tenderness. He wanted to cherish this man in his arms.

Damen cradled Laurent’s head in his hands, putting a high, flushed cheek in each of his palms, so that he could pull him up for a kiss. It was one of those kisses that increased in passion the longer it continued. It started with Damen kissing long and deep, opening his mouth softly each time so that the kiss lubricated and made soft little noises. He waited until Laurent was ready to open his mouth.

When that delightful little mouth was parted ever so slightly, Damen arched his tongue to lick the curve of Laurent’s upper lip, teasing him into opening wider. Laurent had eased his milky arms around Damen’s neck and his whole body was pushed tight against Damen’s. As the wine-sweet mouth was opened wider, Damen slid his hands back, one cupping the base of Laurent’s skull while the other supported his back so that he could be lowered onto the bed.

Damen’s tongue had now twisted and teased itself fully inside and was exploring familiar territory while he skillfully shifted Laurent underneath him.

He broke the kiss slowly, loath to stop one of his favorite activities.

Laurent shifted under him, somehow alluring for all that he had kept hidden. He blushed like a virgin pet, turning his head to avert Damen’s scorching gaze but inadvertently giving him a view of that flawless creamy-pink profile. He crossed his legs in a show of modesty that struck Damen as a little humorous.

After all the times he had taken him, even after fucking senselessly on Frözha, Laurent’s assured nature in the bedchamber seemed to be simply a carefully crafted façade. Laurent, at heart, was a shy, insecure man who was out of his element between the sheets. It was utterly delightful.

Damen knew exactly how Münin was supposed to be used now.

He drew back to admire the view in the available moonlight. “I can refuse you nothing. I’ll give you all I have…I’ll give you control. What do you want me to do? Please be very…explicit.”

Laurent’s already wide blue eyes got even wider as he realized what Damen had done.

Originally, one would think Damen had all the control since Laurent drank the Münin and could only speak the truth. But instead Damen had given him free reign to speak all of his desires, and would now go about _fastidiously_ fulfilling those needs. Laurent would lead the entire sexual encounter this evening.

Laurent tried to fight it, blush spreading from his ears to his cheeks and then down to his neck and chest.

“I-I want…you to…kiss and…s-suck my neck while you…while you untie my c-clothes…and bite my…collarbone…”

Damen beamed with delight at such vivid and detailed instructions. He would find no end to his pleasure of completing these tasks. He set to work licking the length of Laurent’s pulsing neck, sucking blooms of color all along that blank, white canvas. Laurent had woven his hands through Damen’s shiny black waves while Damen’s fingers applied themselves to delicately untying each of the meticulous knots that lined the shoulders of Laurent’s garment. Laurent arched his neck to give his lover a better angle and Damen could feel Laurent’s small noises of pleasure vibrating the length of his throat.

Damen fanned the warm pads of his fingers under the slits of the fabric, feeling the hard planes of muscle and delicate bones of his chest. He could even feel the fluttering heartbeat under that silk-fine skin.

He took his mouth off of Laurent’s slippery neck to survey his work.

He looked like a ravished maiden: glassy-eyed with wordless pleasure, clothing askew and breath coming in hungry gasps. His entire neck was now an amalgam of bruising flowers that blossomed in petals of violet, red, and pink. Damen could also see the tempting outline of a half-hidden but hardening cock.

He swooped down to swirl his tongue around in a small, sweet ear and Laurent gave a soft wail.

“What now sweetheart?”

Laurent bit his lip when it started to tremble, as if he was trying to stop the flow of his thoughts from gushing out. But the effects of Münin mixed with Laurent’s desires were too strong.

“I…like it w-when you…my n-nipples…twisting h-hard and…s-sucking…”

Damen thought he might orgasm just from this timid and disjointed plea to play with some of the most beautiful breasts ever given to men. But before he could continue, he rewarded Laurent’s honesty with another long, sloppy kiss, attempting to taste the truth on that reticent tongue.

There was a yelp from Laurent as Damen hoisted his hips up into the air with one hand while the other hastily unknotted the sash around Laurent’s waist. Damen tossed it to the side without a second thought.

“What are you---?”

Damen slid easily under the breezy Akielon tunic, canvassing himself alongside Laurent’s tense, milky torso. It was a stroke of luck that Laurent preferred the long baggy style of clothes only virgin women and weedy scholars wore. That meant there was plenty of room for Damen’s broad form.

Laurent’s arms were tangled in the long fabric of his sleeves, restricting his motion, but his legs curled around Damen’s and Damen could feel Laurent’s stiff penis through his underwear. He shook his hips a little so Laurent could feel Damen’s arousal as well.

“I can’t see!” Laurent’s breath hitched.

Damen understood. Hidden under the blanket of blue silk, Laurent could not anticipate and brace himself for Damen’s next ministrations.

Damen trailed his lips along the center of Laurent’s chest, making sure the tips of his hair tickled the sensitive skin there. His hands snaked up Laurent’s side, feeling the twitching muscle underneath soft skin and the pumping of blood that was causing a flush wherever he was touched. The next touch…

Damen loved them: the tits of a milkmaid, ones any whore in the four kingdoms would give a ransom in gold for.

They smelled attractively of Laurent---soap, clean clothes, and the slightest whiff of rosewater--- and they were twisted as tight as if it were frozen in the room. A study in the various shades of pink, Laurent’s tender nipples were so sensitive that just the act of rubbing and sucking them had made him come with his crotch untouched on quite a few occasions. Damen’s only quarrel with them was that they could not spill milk (another secret way he could pry at Laurent’s shell) but it was probably for the best, as, if they had, he would probably never be able to tear his mouth away.

Damen removed his hands from Laurent’s sides, waiting patiently until Laurent had tensed up with anticipation.

Then he took both of his index fingers and thumbs and pinched the tips of both of those gorgeous buds. Laurent arched his back, trying to cover his squealing mouth and Damen increased the pressure, rubbing them softly between his fingers. He enjoyed watching those pale areolas shrink into almost nothingness.

Next Damen pushed them down firmly, trying to push them back into his chest before pulling them up tight. He wanted to nibble at them but continued to roll them mercilessly, feeling a spot of wet soaking cloth near his bare leg. He started licking the curve of Laurent’s pectorals, hinting wordlessly at what came next…

The nipples shivered they were so swollen and aroused.

Lazily, Damen chose one to continue to toy with and licked his lips.

“Does it feel good?” He cooed, flicking the nipple with his fingernail.

Laurent’s writhing should have been an indicator but Damen was a helpless tease in the bedroom. It wasn’t enough to make love and have his partner feel good. He wanted begging and moaning, helpless shaking of hips and raking of nails as his lover became putty in his capable hands.

Laurent seemed to choke on the words. “Good! It…feels s-so… _good_!”

Damen felt hands wrench thick handfuls of his hair as he latched his hot, damp mouth onto the free nipple. He swirled his tongue around the tip, sliding it over the puckered waves of the areola, before culminating all his saliva into one delicious long slurp.

Goosebumps raised on Laurent’s chest as Damen continued to suck.

The ‘frigid’ prince’s reactions were erotic. Amidst his cries of ‘good’ and ‘more’, Laurent bent himself up, making sure there was easy access to his chest. His heels dug into the dimples above Damen’s ass and his grip tightened in Damen’s hair. He was incomparably dear.

By now, half of Laurent’s left ‘breast’ was in Damen’s satisfied mouth, his tongue flicking it back and forth before weaving it in circles. Occasionally, he gave a small nip just to hear Laurent cry out.

“Does this one need it?” Damen gasped, gently flicking the right nipple. He was sweating and breathless from the heat inside Laurent’s clothes.

“Y-yes! More…b-both…do both!”

A slave to Laurent’s pleasure, Damen applied himself with relish to the right, his hands moving back to rub the slippery left side. He gulped with dogged persistence, always hoping that the sweet little nub would give up some sort of delicious climax into his mouth.

“How does it feel?” Damen asked, purposefully drooling on the tip.

“T-tickles…so good…oh god! I…want to…want to finish!”

Damen was delighted by the idea and continued to please Laurent’s chest, all the while crushing and grinding his leg against Laurent’s damp crotch. It didn’t take long before Laurent’s fingers curled against Damen’s scalp, his stomach convulsing and hips pumping desperately on Damen’s warm thigh.

Damen waited for him to shudder into stillness before he extricated himself from Laurent’s clothes.

Placing his arm above Laurent’s head, Damen eased himself down on Laurent’s flushed and disheveled body, kissing him hungrily.

Like ivy vines, he wound his arms and legs and lips around Laurent, weaving himself closer until the two of them were braided together. This was mostly to prevent Laurent from leaping out of the bed in a rush to clean himself.

Laurent’s breathing was shaky.

“You’re melting today.” Damen whispered, nipping at whatever smooth skin he could find. His erection was painful. “Should I spank you?”

Laurent’s upper lip was stiff. “Ye…you should s-stop… _teasing_ me!”

Damen grinned down at him. “What next then, sweetheart? Are you sated or…” He began to kiss luxuriantly in between his words. “Should we,” _kiss_ , “play” _kiss_ “some more?” _Kiss._

Laurent locked eyes with him and then gazed down at Damen’s soft, wet lips. “I want…” He was too shy to even say what he wanted aloud in an empty room. But when Damen heard, his heart pounded with excitement. They had only done this together once before and Laurent had been unable to stand the intimacy of it.

With whip-like speed, Damen disentangled himself from Laurent and expertly stripped him of his clothes and underwear, tossing his own off the bed as well. They could burn for all he cared.

He hovered above that lean, lovely form which seemed to glow in the moonlight and drank him in.

Laurent bent his knees to shield his penis from view, but Damen softly kissed his thigh, murmuring: “No…no it’s so beautiful…it’s so lovely, you have to show me…” And Laurent uncurled like petals before him.

Damen sighed at the view and Laurent blushed furiously.

In a smooth, gentle movement usually not seen outside of the wrestling ring, Damen rolled and flipped so that he was under Laurent and Laurent’s marble-smooth bottom and sticky pink cock dangled tantalizingly below his chin. Laurent gave a soft gasp, caused no doubt, as his eyes met with Damen’s blood-engorged penis.

“This is what you wanted?”

Damen himself wanted this desperately. He wanted to bury his face deep between those thighs, taste the salt of Laurent’s pleasure, and dig his tongue into that tight pink hole.

“…I want it…” Laurent practically sobbed.

Damen’s head hit the bedcovers as Laurent tentatively took his dick in that normally venomous mouth, and began to suck with practiced skill. He had to focus for a moment to keep from climaxing immediately.

When he regained control of his mind and his nether regions, Damen went at Laurent’s bobbing behind with utter enjoyment. He slicked his fingers with his own saliva and began to rub the pretty hole, massaging it to and fro. Meanwhile, he took Laurent’s half-hard penis and stroked his tongue firmly against the head, taking especial care with the sticky slit.

While Laurent normally gritted his teeth during a blowjob, his mouth was filled this time and he moaned, opening his mouth wider. Damen pumped his own pelvis a little up into that warm cavern, and ran his tongue down the spine of Laurent’s sweet cock. His fingers pushed insistently on that pink opening, each time inciting a whine from Laurent’s whole body.

He had to hold Laurent’s hips steady to keep from breaking his nose, as he deep-throated the entire length, gulping frequently to squeeze it with his throat muscles. By now he had eased the tip of his middle finger inside Laurent’s anus. Laurent could barely focus on his own task, Damen was such a professional. His mouth was just open from his panting and Damen was taking advantage of the fact, sliding his dick firmly over the expanse of Laurent’s velvety tongue.

Damen tasted a bubble of saltiness and removed his mouth, clamping it firmly over the center of Laurent’s ass. His hands switched jobs and began to pump rhythmically at the firm pole.

Laurent wailed, Damen’s penis falling out of his mouth.

He held onto Damen’s cock like it was the only handle keeping him on Earth, his silky hair brushing against the throbbing skin; all the while he only sobbed “more…more.”

Skillfully, his tongue punctured that tight hole and the entirety of his tongue wormed its’ way inside, flicking up and down in a effort to widen the entrance. Damen’s hands leapt to Laurent’s thighs, holding them in place so he could not possibly escape the oral assault.

Usually Laurent came silently, with his mouth practically glued shut. Today, with a truth serum coursing through his veins, Laurent squealed as sharply as a virgin, spending himself for the second time this evening, this time on Damen’s dark chest.

It was such an entrancing sight that Damen sighed and bucked his own pelvis up, climaxing squarely on Laurent’s flushed left cheek.

Damen was far from ending his enjoyment of this rare position, so he continued to tongue that beloved anus, shuddering as he felt Laurent begin to lick his cock clean as a cat lapped milk. In between his licking, Laurent murmured encouragements that his body had already given away.

“ _Ooohohhhh_ …Y-yes…there, there…more there…oh, g-god…god that’s _good_! I like…there! No, no _there!_ Oh… _Damen…_ ”

When Damen forced himself away, his chin was dripping with moisture and most of Laurent’s ass had a deep reddish-pink glow. He planted a series of noisy kisses all down the length of that ass…

“If I had my way,” He pronounced, thumbing gentle circles over the place he had kissed, “my mouth would only leave your ass to suck out your cock. Would you like that?”

When Laurent did not respond immediately, Damen sat up on his elbows to see what was the matter. The sight that greeted him was almost enough to make him cum again.

Laurent’s eyes were downcast shyly and his cheeks were red, which seemed directly at odds with the fact that he still gripped Damen’s cock and there was a patch of sticky pearls dripping from the tips of his gold hair.

“But then you’d not get to…kiss me.”

The last part came out in a self-conscious whisper.

It was like throwing a match on kindling. Damen loved that kind of response and he threw himself back on top of Laurent. All too willing for what he had begged for, Laurent’s mouth was wide in anticipation.

Damen’s hand slid with easy practice up to Laurent’s knees, spreading him wide, grinding his hips firmly against where he planned to mess Laurent up. Despite Laurent attempting to lock their lips firmly together, Damen extricated himself in order to search for the oil he kept hidden in various places all around his quarters.

Curiously one of the bottles he grabbed from underneath the bed (of which there were more than a dozen) still had wax on the stopper.

He looked with astonishment down at the now sloppy beauty of his melting lover. Laurent grinned at his own cunning.

“Is this…?” Damen began.

“Frözha? I figured…you’d never find it…hidden right under your nose.”

Damen laughed into Laurent’s lily-white collarbone. “Crafty bitch. You darling, cunning thing. Ugh, god I want to make you a mess, drive you crazy, fill you up until you’re _pregnant_ …God, I love you…”

“I c-can’t get pregnant,” Laurent protested, petting Damen’s nape.

“I won’t use it…” Damen admitted and Laurent’s hands stopped moving. “Not today. You were so…delicious on Frözha, so sweet and hot. I want to do that again, but…tonight, I want you simply and honestly. I want… _you_.”

Laurent stroked Damen’s cheeks. “You talk too much.”

Damen reclaimed Laurent’s eager lips and uncorked the other glass bottle, the smell of orange blossoms permeating the bedroom as Damen slathered the regular oil all over his hands. Wrapping Laurent’s legs across his back, Damen slid two of his fingers firmly up inside Laurent, cradling and prodding the spot he knew Laurent liked best. With the other oily hand, he began to roughly massage the still-swollen nipples. Laurent arched charmingly beneath him.

It was going to be so delicious and slow…

“Are you ready, Laurent?” Damen asked, dragging his tongue across the corner of Laurent’s mouth.

“Y-yes…”

He could already feel it in the shudders that came from caressing Laurent’s insides.

Determined to kiss him the entire time, Damen wiggled his tongue back into Laurent’s mouth as he pushed himself into position. With one easy thrust and Laurent’s nails pushing deep into the flesh of his back, Damen’s pulsing cock entered inside.

Laurent could not be closer if he tried.

His legs were crossed firmly on Damen’s back, his hips off the bedsheets in an effort to get closer. With each shallow thrust he let out a muffled whine in tandem and when Damen pulled out to his own engorged head, Laurent gave a sigh of satisfaction so sweet that Damen could have masturbated to completion just by hearing the sound.

Damen pumped strategically, aiming for the swollen bump just behind Laurent’s testicles.

Their stomachs were both slick with sweat and pre-cum, Laurent slippery as oil beneath him; with Damen’s hands covered with lubricant, he could sooner get a handle on a greased eel than his lover. The bedding beneath them was a wet tangle and Damen skidded against them to get a deeper thrust.

Tears of abject pleasure squeezed out of Laurent’s eyes and Damen abandoned his mouth to lick them away. He cooed questions of encouragement:

“Does it feel good here? I can’t know if you don’t tell me. Does it feel good? Are you going to come soon? God, you’re precious. It feels like you’re _melting_ inside.”

“You…talk too…AHHHHH! Oh _god_!!!”

With one long rake, Laurent scratched ten identical lines down all the way to Damen’s buttocks. Damen howled with the pain, spurting a little inside at the new stimulus. But it had the desired effect as his balls were pressed almost flush with Laurent’s cheeks.

Laurent slapped his hands firmly against Damen’s buttocks and then dug his fingernails into the soft flesh there.

Damen snarled, his penis jerking with need.

In return, he squeezed the center of Laurent’s reddening cock, preventing him from cumming. Laurent screamed in protest, one hand attempting to wrench Damen’s wrist away. It was too slippery and Damen was too strong to prize it away.

“L-Let _go_! Damen! Let me…g-go!”

Damen slapped his cock firmly back into place. Laurent shrieked and arched his back.

“Do you love me?” Damen demanded in a growl.

“I-I… _love_ you!” Laurent sobbed, his penis beginning to bubble at the tip.

“Do you need me?” Damen’s voice was breathy and he could feel blood trickling down his back.

“Y-yes…god yes…” Laurent’s dick throbbed, globs of semen sliding over Damen’s hand. Laurent’s hand was slack on his.

Damen kissed him delicately and smiled, feeling his back twitch with slight pain. “Are you sorry?”

“I’m…I’m sorry!”

Damen felt close to finishing and looked down at his wrecked lover. “I love you, Laurent of Vere.”

Laurent’s breath hitched, his eyes glassy with desire. “Me t-too…I love---.”

Damen let go of Laurent’s cock and twin cries echoed through the sultry, dark room.

 


	3. Extra: The Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: MORE DRUGGED SEX/ DRUG USE BY 'ACCIDENT'  
> (If you don't like sex on drugs, then just skip this chapter)
> 
> As a sort of epilogue to the story and wanting honest Laurent to stick around a bit longer, I wrote this short chapter. I always liked in the books that Laurent was a few steps ahead of most everyone else and so I wrote a little bit in here; I wonder if anyone caught it at the end of chapter 1...Enjoy ;)

Two hours of lovemaking later, and Damen found his head cradled in Laurent’s slender, still-shaking arms. His scarred back was a crisscrossing patchwork of stinging red scratches, his buttocks throbbing with rows of crescent indentations, and shoulders covered in deep bite marks. To his delight, Laurent was limp and boneless as a washed cloth, flushed with the color of a good fucking.

Both of them were curled close together, naked and cooled from the sea-breeze floating through the open windows.

The effects of the Münin were wearing off, as Laurent was beginning to be less forthcoming and more barbed with his thoughts. But Damen still talked with him, lazily flicking one of Laurent’s relaxed nipples.

“Is your voice alright?”

“What do you fucking think?” Laurent asked, his voice a sweet rasp. “It’s your fault, you sadist. First you screw me till I faint in Vask and now you torture me with patience until I scream the truth.” Damen smiled fondly at the memories.

“As sexy as you are when you rule…I like you just as much begging beneath me…”

“I…don’t like being vulnerable like that…”

Damen tilted his chin to look up at him. “Then why did you agree to try the Münin? If you had said no I would have…left the bottle forever unopened.” He brushed his knuckles across Laurent’s chin. “Why would you gamble like that?”

Laurent blushed red all the way to the roots of his mussed, yellow hair. He mumbled something unintelligible.

“I can’t hear you.” Damen replied.

“I was…jealous…”

“Of who?” Damen was shocked; normally he was the envious lover while Laurent appeared aloof and immune to any probable competition.

“Erasmus,” Laurent admitted after a long moment. “N-Not of you…loving him but…his innocence. You like innocence don’t you? He’s sweet and honest…submissive…Aside from his looks, he’s the opposite of me, isn’t he? I thought…you might…like me better…like that. Like him…”

Damen was overcome with emotion deep in his chest. Münin had given him something very special: he was trusted with Laurent’s insecurity. It was more valuable to him than all the gold he had given for the bottle.

He kissed Laurent’s wrists in a sign of ultimate prostration. “You know…I slept with many like Erasmus: sweet, open, willing, truthful…They all blend together, they’re so alike. I only…fell in love with you.”

He looked up at that beloved prince, Laurent’s eyes looking a little watery.

“You _are_ honest. And sweet and innocent. I just have to work to see it. Only me…”

Laurent’s trembling lips brushed Damen’s forehead.

Damen sighed, aroused at the feeling of being kissed so lovingly. “God, I wish I could spend the rest of the day in bed with you. Unfortunately, Torveld will be up at dawn wanting to hunt and prepare for the tournaments later this week…” He was sour at the thought; after abstaining for so many weeks, he wanted to make up all that sex into one single night.

“Oh,” Laurent replied, lightly running his hands through Damen’s wavy hair. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that…I believe they’ll sleep in _especially_ late tomorrow.”

“How do you know that?” Damen asked. Laurent was intelligent, but he could not see the future.

Laurent smiled wickedly. “Do you remember that tea I asked the serving boy to fetch at dinner?”

_Meanwhile in the guest rooms…_

“Yes! I _want_ it! Please…do it!”

Erasmus bit down on his swollen lip, until a familiar set of fingers wedged his mouth open, causing him to squeal uncontrollably. His bruised ivory ass slapped loudly as Torveld drove his cock in relentlessly.

Erasmus had never felt so aroused in his entire life.

His hands were bound securely to the headboard with Torveld’s belt, his tunic they had not had the time to remove and so it had been shoved up around his waist, and Torveld held his entire slender waist aloft in the air, driving their hips together.

The inside of him felt raw it was so sensitive, and his poor cock looked as though it was melting he had come so much. He was hungry for it, had never wanted the sex so badly. It felt like heaven when they had finally connected.

“Darling, darling…” Torveld murmured into his ear and it seemed to echo all the way down to Erasmus’ swollen crotch. “You feel so _good_ tonight…”

His lust was wordless; he could only whimper and drool as he was driven into without mercy. His toes and fingers curled. His nipples felt as sore as those of a wet nurse. It was so incomparably _good_.

His favorite feeling came, as Torveld---beloved Torveld---came inside of him for the fifth time, filling Erasmus up with gooey warmth. Erasmus shivered all over, desperately bucking his hips against the sullied sheets so he too could climax (his for the seventh or eighth time).

Torveld placed scratchy bearded kisses up and down Erasmus’ damp, burnished nape, until the two of them were ready to fuck again. It didn’t take much time at all, and Torveld had saved a step by not even bothering to remove his cock.

Their sweat smelled like flowers…


End file.
